Sam & Max: Hit the Mall
by Clovis15
Summary: Sam and Max take a trip to the Mall to go gun shopping. Written back in '98.


(Scene of Sam watching a soap opera on T.V. while eating ice cream, Max walks in and sits in the chair next to Sam.)  
  
Max: Is it me, or do you look like the poster child for a Jenny Craig ad?  
  
Sam: (sighing) You got me there little buddy. My date whom I had met on the internet dumped me when she learned I was a dog. She said she wasn't a dog person.  
  
Max: (Smiling) I know where you can find women that aren't discriminative of members of another species.  
  
Sam: (Shocked) Max! Don't talk about such women, kids will be reading this.  
  
(Max begins to hop up and down)  
  
Max: You can't stay depressed all day!  
  
Sam: You're right Max. Let's go to the mall. Maybe I can cheer myself up by pestering under trained clerks, who are highschool drop outs, with technical questions.  
  
Max: (Becoming really excited) Since you're in such a bad mood, will you mind if while we're at the mall, I try to cheer you up by beating people up at random?  
  
Sam: Nope, I wouldn't mind at all if you did that.  
  
Max: (Excitedly) Let's Go! I'm driving!  
  
Sam: So long as you don't mind me clawing at the dash board screaming like a cheer leader!  
  
(Fade to scene of Sam & Max driving their police car towards the town mall. They pass a highway sign that reads: "I Know What You Did Last Exit".)  
  
Max: Sam, what do you plan on buying at the mall, or do you just plan on getting kicks by taxing the clerks' insignificant brains with arcane questions?  
  
Sam: I wish I could say that we're going here for mere pleasure, but I lost my dry cleaning ticket, and now they won't give me my clothes back.  
  
Max: You mean you have clothes other than your trench coat, and pants?  
  
Sam: Yes, and I left my gun in my other pants. Without a ticket I can't get my pants or gun back.  
  
Max: Well, while we're at the Gun Store, I'm going to see If I can buy a do- it-yourself nuclear terrorist kit.  
  
Sam: You're such a lively scamp Max.  
  
Max: Of course I am, I drink coffee!  
  
(fade to a scene of Sam & Max in a clothing store questioning a clerk.)  
  
Sam: Listen here half-pint, I didn't ask you to read me the tag on the shirt. I asked you if it was made in some third world country by slave labor.  
  
Clerk: I don't know, let me get my manager.  
  
(The Clerk walks away from the counter to get the manager.)  
  
Sam: Dang, he bailed out before I could get into the more interesting questions.  
  
Max: This is boring Sam, I haven't found a suitable victim yet.  
  
(Sam sees a man who seems to be holding something under his coat.)  
  
Sam: Well speak of the devil, there seems to be a shoplifter right over there.  
  
Max: The devil, the devil. So, could I apprehend, subdue, and otherwise pummel the suspected shoplifter?  
  
Sam: Go for it little buddy.  
  
(Camera pans away so you can only see Sam, on the wall behind him you can the silhouette of Max beating up the shoplifter. Sam flinches after each blow.)  
  
Sam: Ohh, ahh, youch that's gotta hurt.  
  
(Max walks over to Sam holding a cast.)  
  
Max: He wasn't a shoplifter, he just had a broken arm, here's the cast.  
  
Sam: Well, I'd now say that his entire body is broken. Let's leave before he comes to.  
  
(Sam and Max begin to walk out of the clothing store.)  
  
Sam: (Whistling), Max, you're not whistling.  
  
Max: Am I supposed too?  
  
Sam: You're always supposed to whistle when you walk away from the scene of a crime.  
  
Max: Would that fall under the category of cheesy clichés, or retrospective Nostalgia?  
  
Sam: A litte of both I think.  
  
(Fade to a scene of Sam & Max entering the gun store, on the window of the mall outlet is a sign reading: "Buy your gun on Wednesdays and get it autographed by 'Steve Purcell'".)  
  
Sam: So, honorable clerk of an establishment that sells guns to police, crazy homicidal neighbors, and your common corner thug, what's your name?  
  
Zack: The name's Zack, Zack McKraken. As to those other people, you can't prove anything, they all had permits. Now what can I get for you two?  
  
Sam: A Saturday night special please.  
  
Zack: Didn't we sell you one last week. What happened to it?  
  
Max: (interrupting Sam) He left it in his clothes at the dry cleaner, then lost the ticket.  
  
Zack: I hate it when that happens. I'm going to check in the back to see if we have any left.  
  
(Zack leaves the counter and goes to the back.)  
  
Max: At least he's nicer then the clerk they had here last week.  
  
Sam: He's better looking to. It took us five minutes just to realize that the clerk wasn't mooning us, and that was his face. He could've claimed he was talking from his butt, and you'd believe him.  
  
Max: Or at least until Jim Carrey would bring on the oh-so inevitable law suit for such an obvious act of plagiarism.  
  
(Zack returns from the back room, carrying the requested gun.)  
  
Zack: Before I give you this, so as to protect myself from lawsuits, I need you to promise me that you're not going to kill somebody with this.  
  
Sam: I'll promise that if I shoot somebody, that they'll have deserved it.  
  
Zack: (Hands Sam the gun) That's good enough for me. You have to take the precautions just in case you know.  
  
Sam: Touché.  
  
Zack: Now what can I get for you white friend.  
  
Max: I'd like a do-it-yourself nuclear terrorist kit, and don't skimp on the plutonium.  
  
Zack: I see.  
  
(Zack reaches under the desk and pushes a button marked: "Push in case of possible Nuclear Terrorist in store". Seconds after pushing it a C.I.A. agent runs in the room.)  
  
C.I.A.: Which one of you purchased the do-it-yourself nuclear terrorist kit?  
  
Max: (raising hand) I did.  
  
C.I.A.: Do you plan on using that kit to blow up the president, start world war 3, destroy lucasarts, nuke all the world's JAR-JAR fans. . .  
  
(Screen fades to black, the text "One Hour Later" appears, scene fades back in)  
  
C.I.A.: . . .blow up the earth's core or use it to super cook any chickens.  
  
Max: Ofcourse not. I was going to try to improve on the existing instructions that came with it. Then sumbit my improved Nuclear Missile into a science fair. Can we go now.  
  
C.I.A.: Yes, you can go now, I was just checking.  
  
(Sam and Max leave the mall and go back to their apartment)  
  
Sam: You never told me that you were entering a science fair, I never thought you had the brain power.  
  
Max: I'm not entering any science fair; I just said that to get him to leave us alone. I'm going to use the missile to force your sister to pay me back the five dollars she owes from a bet.  
  
Sam: Getting her to honor her promises is like trying to pull teeth. Which reminds me, I have a dentist appointment tommorow.  
  
Max: Sam, can I ask you a question.  
  
Sam: Go ahead little buddy.  
  
Max: Is touché even a real word?  
  
THE END 


End file.
